Page 46 of The Rogue’s Countess

“Of course, I would never intentionally do anything that would injure…or disappoint you,” Phoebe said with a catch in her voice. Lady Wrotham nodded her acknowledgment.

“I know you wouldn’t, my darling girl.” The dowager marchioness reached out to pat her hand before she began. “You already know how Gideon’s father and I met. Matilda and Robert had taken me in, and one of Robert’s friends invited us to dinner. It was there that I was introduced to Alexander’s grandmother, the Grand Dowager Duchess of Lichtenberg. We took to each other quickly, and before I knew what was happening, I was her companion.”

“I remember,” Phoebe said softly as she met the woman’s gaze. Lady Wrotham smiled at her and nodded.

“I’d been with her two days when she insisted I accompany her to the grand duke’s birthday celebration. I didn’t know until later that she had been playing matchmaker from the moment she and I met. How she knew Alexander and I were meant for each other, I don’t know, but she did. When she was certain Alexander had seen me from a distance, she’d claimed fatigue, and we left the party. The next morning Alexander called to be introduced to me. For Alexander and me, it was love at first sight.

“I knew instantly there would never be another man to possess my whole heart. I loved Thomas and Cornelius, but not with every fiber of my being as I did Alexander. He was a part of me—a part of my soul. The moment I walked into his grandmother’s salon that morning, it was as if no one else was with us. Even when we couldn’t see each other, we knew the moment the other entered the room. It was like that until the day he died, and a part of me died with him.”

The dowager’s eyes took on a distant look, and Phoebe contemplated the woman’s description of how she’d met Gideon’s father. Instantly, her heart slammed into her chest. Like the marchioness, she knew when Gideon was close, even if she couldn’t see him. The realization made her stomach lurch with dread. The marchioness’s first marriage had been one of love. If she were to accept Gideon’s proposal, she would be married to a man who would never love her as deeply as she loved him. With a sense of despair, Phoebe swallowed the tears rising in her throat. Lady Wrotham suddenly emerged from her memories of the past and smiled at Phoebe as she continued with her story.

“The grand dowager duchess had her own residence several miles away from the palace. The day after Alexander and I met, his grandmother insisted I was to begin riding every afternoon. She said it was good for my constitution, and she sent Alexander a note as to when I would be out riding. The dowager grand duchess knew that Alexander wouldn’t hesitate to seek me out. The woman could be quite wily when she wanted something to happen.” Lady Wrotham laughed, and it was a happy sound that said she was enjoying her chance to share the account of a happier time in her life.

“She knew Alexander’s father would frown on our romance, so our notes to each other were enclosed with the correspondence she sent to Alexander almost daily. My afternoons quickly became the highlight of my day. Alexander would ride out to meet me, and we’d spend our time together talking about everything.

“Alexander was brilliant. He could speak seven different languages, and he excelled at diplomacy. As third in line to the title, he did various legislative and diplomatic work for the duchy. When his two older brothers died of influenza after we were married, I blamed myself for depriving the duchy of his leadership. He became extremely angry with me and punished me to make it quite clear he had no regrets.”

A small smile touched the dowager’s lips as she stared down at a sapphire ring on her finger. Phoebe knew her first husband had given it to the other woman, and the dowager never took it off even when she retired for the night. Lady Wrotham looked up to meet Phoebe’s gaze, her gray eyes, so like Gideon’s, were shining with mischief. Immediately, Phoebe knew the punishment her husband had administered had been anything but punitive. The thought made her cheeks grow warm. Lady Wrotham laughed and reached out to pat her hand.

“My dearest Phoebe, for a woman who has, on numerous occasions, pointed out the quite bawdy double entendre of P. Currer’s writings, you’re blushing like a schoolgirl.”

“It simply that the room is warm, my lady.”

At her small lie, the dowager blew out a puff of air that emphasized her disbelief and laughed. Phoebe’s cheeks burned hotter, and the dowager laughed again as she wagged her finger at Phoebe in a teasing manner.

“Where was I? Oh yes, while out riding one summer afternoon, Alexander and I were caught in a rainstorm. It was a torrential downpour, and the closest shelter was a hunting lodge. By the time we reached it, we were both drenched. The rain lasted for some time, but it was one of the most wonderful days of my life. Alexander asked me to marry him that day.”

The dowager paused again, her mouth tilted in a whimsical smile while her face illustrated she was caught up in the happiness she’d known in the distant past. Lady Wrotham drew in a deep breath then released it as if she’d come to a decision. The dowager met Phoebe’s gaze steadily.

“I always found it difficult to say no to Alexander. He was always decisive about things. When he made up his mind about something, it was a rare instance when someone could change his mind. He was also extremely persuasive. Those two traits I know he inherited from his grandmother. Gideon is exactly the same way. That day in the hunting lodge was one of those moments when it was impossible for me to say no to Alexander.

“We were married two months later on a lovely September day. Gideon was born the following March. Everyone was amazed at how big and strong he was for having been born so early. The dowager duchess declared to all and sundry that Lethbridge blood flowed in Gideon’s veins, which explained why he was such a healthy baby for having been born so early.”

As Lady Wrotham fell silent, Phoebe stared at the dowager in confusion. What had made the woman share her story. There was a soft flush of color on Lady Wrotham’s cheeks, and Phoebe was almost certain she saw a devil-may-care gleam in the woman’s eyes. A small smile played on the marchioness’s lips as she arched her eyebrows in the same way Gideon often did. Phoebe shook her head as she tried to comprehend the point of Lady Wrotham sharing her memory.

“I’m not sure I under—”

Phoebe gasped as her brain suddenly calculated the months between the date of Gideon’s parents’ marriage and his birth. Gideon had been conceived before his parents had exchanged their vows. As she met her employer’s gaze, something in the woman’s gray eyes made her draw in a quick breath.

Ice coated her skin as she met Lady Wrotham’s assessing gaze. . A look of satisfaction settled on Lady Wrotham’s face as she confirmed Phoebe’s suspicions with a nod. Dear God, the marchioness knew. Why else would the woman have shared her story about an indiscretion that had brought Gideon into existence?

“Other than Alexander, his grandmother, and Gideon, you are the only other person who knows the truth. It wouldn’t jeopardize Gideon’s title as he acquired that from my side of the family, but it would create a small scandal and embarrass Gideon. Do you understand now why I asked you to keep my confidence?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I think you know I don’t care what the Marlborough Set thinks of me, but heaven forbid if P. Currer were to discover my secret. The author would find a mortal enemy in Gideon, and I fear it is something that could never be forgiven.”

Phoebe met the marchioness’s gaze, and something in the woman’s expression revealed the dowager either knew or suspected Phoebe was associated with the Chronicles. As if she’d been in a snowstorm, an icy cold layer swept over her skin, and her lungs constricted until she could barely breathe.

“I would…I would never betray you…or Gideon in such a way, my lady.”

“Nor would I reveal any secret of yours, dearest.” The marchioness’s reply made Phoebe’s stomach lurch. Dear God, her employer didn’t just suspect. She knew. The marchioness knew the truth as to who P. Currer was. Lady Wrotham leaned forward and squeezed her hand. “I knew you would keep my secret as well as understand why I told you.”

Humiliation flooded its way through Phoebe as she bowed her head, unable to meet the woman’s gaze. She jumped as Lady Wrotham reached out to gently take one of Phoebe’s hands in her and squeeze it a consoling gesture.

“Even though you wish to deny me a second daughter, would you deny me a grandchild?” Lady Wrotham said softly. “You need to consider the welfare of any child that may have been conceived, Phoebe.”

Shock swept through her to mix with her humiliation. The marchioness hadn’t told her about Gideon’s birth just to ease Phoebe’s conscience and embarrassment. In sharing her story, the dowager had been conveying another message as well. Lady Wrotham was telling her that a child might have been conceived last night. A child.